" Take it!" a voice called, " Take it," Mr. Munn said again, " for it's the last chance. But there's another reason. Mr, Burden, yonder"—he pointed at the man, who from under his dark, shaggy fore- lock stared stolidly at him, shaking his head—"he said tonight he's done things this year he never thought he'd set his hand to. Serve you. So've I, and, by God, I say so. And so Ye you. There's no use to name them. You know, Every- body-----" ** It had to be," Mr. Murdock said. "By God-----" Mr. Christian exclaimed, starting up from his seat and looking savagely about him; but he sank back without finishing his sentence. "It was a mistake," Mr. Munn said. "But it's done. It was a mistake, because when we tried to fight against the companies we had to fight against some of our own people too. People who couldn't see and understand, but our own people. But this'll be different. This'll be clear. Clear as day. Them or us. When we march in-----" "March!" a voice exclaimed. " March in," Mr, Munn said slowly. " When we march in, it'll be clear. Not a half-dozen men with a handful of matches and a can of coal oil. No. A thousand. Two thou- sand. As many as we need. All of us. And in column, Then "—and he was filled with certainty, a deep, sure, clean conviction that engulfed him like a flood, and he scarcely heard his own words—" it will ail be different. It will all be clear as day." Slowly, he sat down. He sat on one of the benches against the wall and leaned back against the uneven surface of the logs. The voices went on? and he heard them. The men would go. They were voting, and they would vote to go. He felt a tightening of his muscles and a prickling of the skin across his back and shoulders. Through the heavy cloth of his coat he felt the roughness and solidity of the logs against which he leaned. Gradually he relaxed, listening to the voices.